


motherfucker

by circumlocute



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:44:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circumlocute/pseuds/circumlocute
Summary: Jane indulges Dave’s thing for hot moms.





	motherfucker

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t have a mommy kink, but Dave totally does. This is my hill and I’m dying on it.

“This movie fucking sucks.” Dave’s sitting on the floor in front of a couch, watching some inane horseshit transpire on-screen. It's something with detectives, but he's not going to pretend he can follow any of their antics. As far as foreplay goes, it’s nnnnot great. It’s definitely making him impatient, though, so maybe that was the point? Jane said she wanted to start the scene during. The hand in his hair is pretty nice, too.

“Language.” The movie is paused and the hand in his hair tightens. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make the warning clear. Dave’s not sure if he was  _ supposed  _ to find that hot, but a little thrill goes down his spine regardless. 

“Oh, shit, are we doing it now?” Dave twists as much as the hand in his hair will allow to look behind him.

Jane winks and nods, and then it’s back to the scene. “Dave, I’m not going to warn you a third time. Good boys don’t swear at their mommies.”

Oh fuck. Dave ducks his head--or tries to, anyway, she isn’t giving him much room to--and feels his face heat up with a blush. This was his idea, his fantasy, but thinking about it or even bringing it up as a hypothetical is so different from actually doing it. At least Jane’s cheeks are red, too; it’s actually pretty reassuring, in a backwards sort of way.

“Sorry.”

There’s a beat. “Sorry what? You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“Sorry...Mommy.” His face burns. He licks his lips, mumbles, “I do. Want to. Lemme make it up to you, please?”

Jane’s smile is back, and as silly as it is for something this small, warmth blooms in the pit of Dave’s stomach. He wants to be good, wants to make her happy. 

She moves her hand down to stroke his cheek, gently guides him up on his knees, facing her, and leans in.

“Give me a kiss, then?”

That’s all the encouragement Dave needs to close the last bit of distance between them. The kiss is exceedingly gentle, Jane slowly licking her way into his mouth and smiling against his lips at the helpless groan that escapes him. He responds more than enthusiastically, but every time he tries to pick up the pace she pulls back, cools it down. It’s maddening, but despite it all he kind of likes it. Being tempered, going at whatever pace she decides. Fuck.

Dave turns his head, speaks against the corner of her mouth. “Wanna make you feel good. Mommy. Please.” He’s already half-hard just from the little they’ve done, skin prickling with arousal and, yeah, shame. It’s hard (ha) admitting he wants this, calling her that and not immediately backpedaling. But he does want this.  _ God,  _ he wants it. 

Jane takes a shaky breath, leans back--nooo, what did he do, he was being good--and, oh. She’s just taking off her shirt. Dave wants to touch her--anywhere--so bad, but he won’t, not without permission. Instead he settles for biting his bottom lip and getting an eyeful. 

Jane’s gorgeous, her skin slightly flushed. She looks soft, all curves and round edges, but Dave’s seen how deceptively strong she is. The bra she’s wearing is creamy white with a little pink rose in the center. He wonders if she’s wearing a matching set.  

“Dave?”

Oh shit, did she catch him looking, he wasn’t exactly being subtle, does she not like that? “Yeah?”

“Sunglasses, please?” She holds out her hand expectantly. A little thrill of panic runs through him for a second, and Jane cups his face again, stroking her thumb along his cheek. “I just want to see your eyes, baby, I’d like to see your face when you’re enjoying yourself.”

Dave makes a quiet choked-off noise and takes them off, folding them up and holding them out for her to take. She’s careful with them, thank fuck, and sets them on the end table. 

“Thank you. You’re being very good.”

Oh, fuck. Dave groans softly and hopes the more than enthusiastic response Dave Jr’s having isn’t visible in the dim light of the television.

Jane arches one eyebrow and, wow, yeah, he can absolutely see how she’s Crockercorp’s CEO, he’d do whatever she said. That is a grade-A Look.

“Can you get my bra for me, Dave?”

“Yeah, yes, absolutely. On it.” He leans forward, reaching around behind her for the fastens. Jane’s not leaning down at all anymore, and in this position, that puts Dave’s head directly in front of her chest. So... _ technically  _ she hasn’t told him to touch her, yet, but she  _ did  _ invite him to take off her bra...he leans in and kisses the little silk rose between her breasts. 

“Oh!” Jane hums and brings her hand up to run through his hair again. “ _ Good  _ boy.”

Dave shudders, leans into her hand like a cat, and unfastens the last hook on her bra. Damn thing has entirely too many hook dealies, but that’s...probably because she needs the extra support. Not that Dave’s complaining about  _ that,  _ hell no. Just all the little fiddly things.

Jane’s glancing slightly away, breathing a little harder, a dark blush spreading across her face. Dave kisses her palm; if anyone should be feeling embarrassed right now it’s him, she’s fucking stunning and he’s the one who asked to roleplay his niche kink. 

“Can I, um.” Dave looks down. It’s hard just  _ asking  _ like this, when his face is...on display, his expressions giving him away whether he wants them to or not. “Can I touch you?”

“Would you want to?”

“F—yeah. Yeah, I do.” He peeks back up at her, doing his level best to keep his composure. “I wanna be good for you, Mommy.”

“Oh,” Jane breathes, “yes, of course you can.”

Dave grins and resists the urge to rub his hands together with anticipation like a cartoon villain. Instead, he leans in and kisses the side of one breast, cupping the other in his hand, and slowly makes his way towards her nipple, leaving a trail of kisses as he goes.

Jane sighs quietly, hums when he flicks his thumb over one nipple and swirls his tongue around the other, and slides down on the couch a little to give him easier access. Fuck yes. He wants Jane to get something out of this too, doesn’t just want to indulge his shit and not give anything in return. He sucks her nipple in between his teeth and bites down just lightly, flicking his tongue.

“Goodness!” Jane tenses up, inhaling sharply. “Oh my gosh.”

Dave pauses, looking up at her and waiting for a cue. Was that not good…? Too much, too little?

Jane gives him a little smile and makes a “go on” motion. “Keep going, you’re doing great.”

Fuck yeah. Dave makes a pleased noise and squeezes her other breast, catching her nipple between two fingers. Jane tips her head back, moaning, and grips his shoulder. He moves his mouth off to the side, kissing and lightly nipping the skin while he runs his thumb over her spit-slick nipple. The grip on his shoulder tightens, and for a moment he’s worried he fucked up, but all Jane does is reach over with her other hand to tip his chin up.

“That’s perfect. You’re perfect, Dave. Mommy’s good boy.”

A strangled noise escapes his throat. “Hah, oh god.” Telling Jane about this was either the best fucking idea he ever had or it’s going to kill him. Maybe both?

Still cupping his chin, Jane leans in for another kiss. If the first one was tempering, this one is only adding fuel to the fire. Jane leaves him gasping for breath, biting at his bottom lip; he thought claiming someone’s mouth was a ridiculous phrase, but that’s exactly what she’s doing. Dave’s so fucking hard it hurts. It’s taking all his concentration just to remember to keep touching her chest instead of sitting there like a dead fish. 

Eventually, Jane pulls back and smiles at him. Her lipstick is smudged, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re so polite when your mouth is occupied.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Shush. You know what I mean.”

He does. Can’t compulsively spew gross, boner-killing horseshit when his mouth is on her tit or on her lips. Dave nods.

And then feels like thanking the heavens for giving him such a blessing, because Jane’s hiking her skirt up, exposing white stockings and--yeah, matching panties with little roses on the hem, a noticeable damp spot on the front. Fuck. Yes.

“So.” Jane clears her throat and inclines her head. “Occupy your mouth.”

Her hand is firm on his shoulder; not forcing, just suggesting. And Dave is  _ more  _ than happy to go along with that suggestion. He sits back on his heels and hooks his fingers into the elastic of her panties. Jane lifts her hips when he tugs them down--leaving the stockings on, fucking sue him--and then swings one leg up over his shoulder.

The noise Dave blurts out is honestly embarrassing as hell, but Jane just raises her eyebrows and grins, tapping him on the back with her heel. 

“Go on.”

He goes on. Dave leans in, kissing her inner thighs before diving in. He starts with a long, slow lick with the flat of his tongue, swirling the tip around her clit once he reaches it. Jane exhales sharply. She tips her hips up and he licks back-to-front, thrusts his tongue inside, alternates between gentle, flicking strokes and broad licks. 

Jane’s surprisingly quiet, just gasps and little hitches of breath, and she doesn’t outright moan until Dave slips two fingers inside her, crooking them, and sucks on her clit. Fuck yeah. He’s dead and in heaven. Spreading his fingers apart, he licks at where she’s stretched open before spreading the wetness there to her clit. Jane tenses, heel pushing him as close to her as he can go, hand holding his head in place.

“Right there, oh my god. Don’t you move an inch, yes, yes, there.”

Dave does as he’s told, crooking his fingers and redoubling his efforts. Jane does a lot of the work, gripping his hair and rocking up into his mouth. His neck is starting to hurt from holding this position, but he wouldn’t stop without Jane’s say-so if the fucking Queen of England barged in and told him to quit giving head on pain of death. Hell fucking no, this is so hot. Jane’s heel pushes between his shoulder blades again. Dave glances up and moans desperately, helplessly.

Jane’s chest is heaving and flushed, her free fist clenched on the arm of the couch. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s biting her bottom lip, sweat pooling in the hollow of her neck. Dave reaches down with his free hand to palm himself--not, not jacking it, totally not, he wouldn’t without her permission, just. Rearranging himself to get more comfortable. Yeah. At any rate, Jane doesn’t notice his definitely-not-humping-his-hand, and after a few more seconds she arches up against his mouth, hand white-knuckled in his hair, gasping vague praise while she comes. Dave...rearranges himself some more. Fuck.

He keeps working his mouth and fingers until Jane pulls him off, and after a moment to catch her breath she unhooks her leg from his shoulder. She gives him a wobbly smile and pats the couch cushion next to her.

“Come up here and sit next to me, Davey.”

Dave does his level best not to look as desperate as he is when he scrambles up to sit beside her, but with his hair all mussed and his chin still wet, it’s probably a lost cause. Jane gives him an appraising look, chin resting on her hand.

“Take your shirt off, Dave.”

“Okay.” Dave reaches for the hem of his shirt, pretty fucking excited over this turn of events if he’s being completely honest, but Jane clicks her tongue. Oh no, oh no no no, what did he do? How can he fix it?

“What was that?”

_ Oh.  _ He twists the hem between his fingers and clears his throat. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Wonderful. You’re doing so well, go on.”

Yes, god, she’s happy with him, he’s doing well,  _ he’s  _ the reason she’s got that little smile on her face when he pulls off his shirt. It’s really fucking nice, especially because Dave’s...kind of self conscious about this part, he’s got scars all over (big ones, little ones, weird shaped ones, it’s a veritable scar museum up in here), he’s pasty as hell and covered in freckles, and after the game he’s started to get a little bit of chub. Not exactly cover material for the swimsuit edition. Jane still looks at him like he’s hot shit, though, still runs her hand through her hair and lets out a little appreciative whistle. 

She shifts so she’s facing him, puts a hand on the center of his chest and pushes until he’s lying back on the couch. Jane straddles his thighs, not quite touching the goods but definitely close enough he can’t stop thinking about it, and just... _ looks  _ at him.

“You’re so pretty.” Jane slides her hand up his chest and flicks her thumb over one stiffening nipple. “Such a pretty boy.”

Dave whimpers.

“You are! And you’re being so good for me, Dave. Mommy’s perfect, pretty boy.”

His face feels like it’s on fire, but he can’t stop the moan that escapes him. Jane just quirks her lips and leans down to suck marks into his neck. 

“Fuh-oh my god. Oh my god, please don’t stop.” 

She pinches his nipple and pulls back just long enough to say, “I won’t stop. You’ve done so well, I want to give you a reward. Good boys deserve rewards, don’t they?”

He pants. “Y-yeah. Yeah.”

“And you are  _ good,  _ Dave.”

She has to know what she’s doing to him, right, every time she tells him he’s doing well it goes straight to his dick. Dave wants so much, desperately wants to be good for her, and he  _ is,  _ she  _ said so.  _ He’s making her happy, making her rock against his thigh and hum pleased noises into his skin. Fuck, fuck, he’s so turned on right now he could combust. Dave tips his head back to give Jane better access and tries not to make too many embarrassing noises. 

She sucks a line of marks along his collarbone, up his neck (pausing to lick the shell of his ear and whisper praise), along his jaw. By the time she stops and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, Dave’s panting and mumbling a steady stream of nonsense. He’s going to be  _ covered  _ in marks, fuck. He bruises easy, he knows, and Jane was going at him like he was a crazy straw and she had to suck up every last drop of milkshake.

“Oh, god, I’m gonna have to go out with a scarf, four scarves, I’m gonna have to raid Karkat’s wardrobe for one of those giant sweaters of his, you might as well have put a big ‘property of Jane’ sticker on my forehead, that’s so hot, god. I’m gonna die, sh--please. Please, please, touch me. Mommy. Please.”

Jane barely stifles a laugh, tilting his chin to admire the marks she left. “Shh. A little waiting never killed anyone.” 

Dave shushes, hands clenching and unclenching on the cushions. 

“Please. I want it real bad.” Or, alright. Mostly shushes. He’s trying, is the thing.

Jane shakes her head, eyes scrunched up at the corners with amusement, and scoots back off his legs.

“Lift your hips.”

Oh, fuck yes. Dave does immediately, scrambling to push his pants and boxers down before Jane’s even managed to do the buttons. Eventually Jane has to swat his hands away and do it herself, which, yeah, fair, he wasn’t exactly being helpful on that front. 

The relief he feels when his dick is finally free of its denim prison is incredible. Fuuuck. Jane laughs quietly at his long, low groan and turns around to rummage around in the end table. Dave props himself up on his elbows, craning his neck to try and see what she’s getting. 

“Here we are.” Jane turns around with a bottle of lube and holds it up. Dave kicks off his pants and underwear where they’re bunched around his ankles and tries not to look like he just won the lottery. It’s just lube. 

“Are you gonna…?”

“I am, if it’s something you want!” Jane pets his inner thighs with her free hand. “You’ve been so good for me, Davey, you deserve it.” 

Dave wiggles his hips into her lap. “I want. I really, really, really want.”

Jane squeezes out a glob of lube and rolls it between her fingers to warm it up. Honestly, Dave kind of wishes she’d just fuck him, he’s been on edge for so long, but. He’s being good. He’ll be patient. Even if he’s totally going to die if she doesn’t touch him in the next three seco—ohhhhfuck. 

“Ohhhhfuck.” Dave spreads his legs wider around Jane’s hips.

She arches one eyebrow at him--shit--but otherwise doesn’t comment on the inevitable resurfacing of the swears. Thank fuck. The more turned on he gets the harder it is to control his wordvomit and he’s reaching critical levels, here.

Jane curls her finger, thrusts in and out, and once he stops wiggling around in her lap so fucking much, she squeezes more lube out and adds another finger.

“This good?”

“Golden.” Dave tries to fuck himself down on her fingers, but she grips his hip and holds him in place effortlessly. Goddamn, Jane. His dick twitches.

“Would you hold on, goshdarnit?” Jane curls her fingers, spreads them apart. Her eyes are all over him. “I’m trying to savor the moment, Dave, you stubborn thing. Let me look at you.”

Well, fuck, when she puts it like  _ that.  _ Dave holds still, watching her watching him, and moans when her fingers brush against his prostate. 

“Ah, there, yes, god, shit.” He tips his head back on the couch and closes his eyes. “Put another one in, Mommy, please, I’m good, I want it.”

“You are.” Jane adds another finger and the stretch burns, but it’s good, the kind of burn that leaves him chasing more. 

Dave groans and pants, still trying in vain to rock his hips into it, but Jane’s strong as fuck. He’s not going anywhere she doesn’t want him to. She’s got him, she’s taking care of it, of him, taking as long as she wants. It’s quite possibly one of the hottest things that has ever happened to him, shit. A drop of precome lands on his stomach. He... _ could  _ jack himself off, technically, but he’s got a feeling that Jane wants to see him hold out. And, okay, so maybe he’s a huge bottom bitch, but he  _ really  _ likes having someone take the reigns and control everything. 

Jane crooks her fingers, searching; when she brushes up against his prostate again he blurts a loud noise and arches his back. She grins, focusing her efforts until she’s hitting it with every stroke. She’s playing Dave like he’s a goddamn  _ instrument.  _ Fuck. That’s so hot. 

After what feels like forever ramping him up, Jane finally,  _ finally  _ stops holding him in place and uses her newly freed hand to stroke his dick, pulling the foreskin back and swiping her thumb over the head. Dave sobs. It takes all his effort not to just come on the spot, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Dave.” Jane’s hands slow. Fuck, no, not now, he’s  _ so close  _ and she’s had him wait for  _ so long.  _ He inhales and licks his lips. Words. Are a thing.

“Yeah?”

“Touch yourself for me. I want to see you feeling good.”

She stopped for  _ that?  _ Well--okay, yeah, he was going to come in like .03 seconds if she kept going like she was. If she wants him to actually touch himself cooling down isn’t a terrible idea.  

Dave nods. “Yes, Mommy.”

He closes his eyes because he can’t help the surge of embarrassment that runs through him at the idea of putting on a show like that. But...nerves aside, Jane’s eyes on him...It’s good. It’s really, really good. He lets one hand trail up his side, dodging familiar scars, and pinches his nipple. He throws his other arm over his face, breathing raggedly into the crook of his elbow.

“Tell me how it feels, Davey.” Jane starts working him over again, making quiet appreciative sounds.

“Ah, feels good, shit. Mommy, fuck me, please, please more. Feels so good.”

“You’re such a good boy, you’re doing so well. You deserve to feel nice.”

He whimpers. “Fuck, oh god, god, shit, Mommy, please, I can’t—I’m so close, fuck, fuck.”

“It’s okay.” Jane leans down and kisses his chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, let me take care of you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She thrusts her fingers into him hard, setting a bruising pace that contrasts how gentle her words are. She hooks his legs over her shoulders and makes him fold at the middle, strokes him fast and rough. 

“Shit! Ah, ah, fuck, please, oh god, I’m gonna come, oh, oh my god.”

“I’m here, I’ve got you, you’re so good. Let go, it’s okay. Let Mommy take care of you.”

Dave makes an absolutely  _ wrecked  _ noise and lets go, tensing up as he comes. Jane most certainly fucking does have him; she keeps her hands on him until he groans and pushes weakly at her shoulders. And even then, she eases his legs down so he’s not bent in half and pets at his hair, never leaving him without some point of contact. She’s saying something, but Dave can’t quite focus long enough to understand it. 

“Mm.” He cracks one eye open and smiles at her. “Thanks.”

Jane is apparently much more easily flustered now that she’s not playing the role, because she blushes bright red and glances away.

“Of course. You, ah, certainly seem mellowed out.” She laughs and runs a hand through her hair.

Dave sits up, still wobbly and boneless from the afterglow, and fits himself up against her side. “Fuck yeah. ‘s good.”

He yawns and wipes the jizz splatter off his stomach. Ew. “Uh. Hope it wasn’t too weird for you or anything.”

“No!” Jane puts one arm around him, shifting a little awkwardly. “No, I enjoyed myself immensely. If anything it was  _ too  _ fun.”

What does that…? Oh.  _ Ohhhhhh.  _ Dave glances pointedly down at where Jane’s legs are crossed and waggles his eyebrows. 

“Y’could take care of that, if you wanted.” He kisses her neck, still too out of it to do much more than press his lips to her skin and hum contentedly. It’s good. He wants to make sure Jane enjoys herself as much as he did. 

“And you wouldn’t...mind.” 

“Hell no. I’d be fucking crazy to turn down free tickets to the Jane Crocker slap and blast extravaganza.”

“Call it that again and you won’t get to see anything.” 

“Message received.” He presses his lips together and trails one hand over Jane’s chest. She inhales, slipping one hand between her legs and tipping her head back. 

Dave’s too out of commission to really be much help in this endeavor, but he mumbles encouragement all the same, and it’s not long before Jane gasps sharply and sighs, her hand slowing. 

“Mm, hot.” Dave scoots a little closer and nuzzles the crook of her neck. “Ten out of ten.”

Jane nods, going silent. After a pause, she hauls him into her lap and pulls a blanket off the back of the couch to wrap them both in. Fuck. Yes. Dave’s a cuddler, always has been, so he rearranges himself to fit more comfortably (ie, without crushing her legs) on her lap and closes his eyes.

“We should do this again sometime, if you’d like? Not to presume.” 

“Hell yeah.”

“Was it everything you wanted?”

“Hell yeah. Thank you. It was...perfect.”

“I’m glad.” Jane shifts and reaches for the remote. “Now, let’s finish this movie.”

Dave groans halfheartedly; he’s entirely too content to make much of a show about how much this particular shitty film sucks. “I’m going to fall asleep in like, ten minutes tops.”

Jane chuckles. “As if you weren’t going to anyway.”

He’s asleep in five. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this with minimal editing after not much sleep, so apologies if anything was a little weird. I'll probably be making minor edits as I go along the next few days.


End file.
